Anywhere But Here
by redandyell0w
Summary: Prince Blaine has always felt like he didn't belong in the life he was given; the life of a Prince. That all changes when he meets the Baker's son; but Blaine is to be married to a woman, sooner rather than later. Will love be enough for these boys to make it through?
1. Chapter 1

_**Welcome, readers, to the grand re-release of Anywhere But Here. I hope you enjoy the new version of this fic as much as I am already. **_

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"They are ready for you, Prince."

Blaine sighed at the sound of the overly nervous voice, attempting to hide the annoyance that was prominent on his features. It was always with a tone of nervousness that he was spoken too, a fact that he loathed daily. He looked behind him at the speaker with perceptive eyes, words caught in his throat as his mind and emotion fought over what answer to give him.

Blaine, in short, did not want to go them to be ready for him. In fact he'd give anything for them to not make him go downstairs, but even a prince can't ask of such high demands that go against his and her Royal Highness. The thought made him want to roll his eyes, and often times he did.

But could anyone blame Blaine? That he did not want to sit through yet another horrid ball? It was the same every time, every fortnight in fact. His parents, the King and Queen, would throw a royal ball. Queens and Kings and Noble families from any Kingdom so much as associated with theirs would show up with a cart load of done up princesses. It was Blaine's job, "his duty" as his mother often said, to take his pick, and the ticking clock of his young age was asking him to make this choice sooner rather than later.

The ball was always dreadfully boring. Girls in frilly dresses and doused in sickly perfumes would flock at his side, and he would have to accompany them with a charming smile. He'd have to dance endless dances, laugh at their horrible senses of humor, kiss a million hands and hear a millions swoons follow suit. These days the balls were all starting to blur together, and every girl he danced with was the same girl. There was no one different; no one who caught his eye or made his heart pound of made him interested in the slightest. His father always said one day it would happen, but it felt like that day would never come.

But he did not have a choice in how long he could wait for that day as he was the prince, and as such he had duties. One of those duties being to marry a royal or noble lady to rule with. A lady that would bless him with sons to rule after him and daughters to marry off. The thought made him sick to his stomach, and dread pooled in his stomach as he felt his options running out.

"I will be down in a moment, thank you." Blaine finally answered in a cracked voice, offering a charming smile that made the man (or boy, he could say, as he was frightfully small) blush a deep shade of red. He bowed his way out of the room nervously and Blaine couldn't help but feel that same annoyance settle in his chest, and a certain sadness coil there as well. He'd give anything to never be looked at like that again. All he wished was that his people would look at him as if he were one of them too.

Blaine took in his appearance in the mirror once more. His black, curly hair was expertly combed back into a neat fashion, making him look much more regal than his free falling curls ever did. His hazel eyes shone in the dim light of the room, appearing to look like a pair of sparkling, gold coins. His smile was white and perfect, his face blemish free and clean-shaven. He was dressed in fine clothing; finer than anything he felt was necessary for someone who was just going downstairs to dance and then never wear it again. He took it all in, and came to the conclusion that he didn't like how he looked at all.

He looked like a prince. He looked charming, brave, handsome… yet he didn't feel like any of these things at all.

Inside, he was not a prince; he was just Blaine. He was still just a boy. With curly hair who loved to sing in the mornings and ride his horse on the forest trails and counted talking with the people in the castle's courtyard among his favorite activities. He preferred actual labor to having a servant's hand do everything for him. He preferred getting to know people himself, something that was hard to do as prince. He was just a boy who didn't want to be seen as Prince Blaine; the future King. He wanted to be seen as Blaine; the person, just like everybody else.

Yet here he was, at yet another ball his mother and father were throwing. Another ball in which he would be forced to dance with a seemingly endless amount of beautifully shallow women, all after one thing; Blaine's hand and kingdom. He would have to smile, be polite and charming, kiss a thousand cheeks and shake a million hands. All in a day's work for the prince… oh, how he wished he didn't live this life.

After one more look at himself Blaine stood from his seat in front of the mirror, putting on his best smile as he stepped out of the room. With his mask of confidence and charm in place he felt ready to step out into the ball; into yet another hellish affair.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

"He's quite handsome, isn't he?" Kurt could hear the girls giggling and whispering in front of him in the ballroom as the esteemed Prince Blaine made his way down the grand staircase. The whole room seemed to part as the Prince made his way to the throne, taking his seat amongst his mother and father with a charming smile on his handsome face. Kurt rolled his eyes as the girls spoke, but stepped a little closer towards them, listening in as he continued to work.

"Oh, I do hope I get a chance to dance with him tonight." Kurt heard one girl say, her love struck eyes catching the glint of the prince's impressive looking sheath for his sword.

"He is so very handsome, isn't he?" Said a young looking girl with a sigh.

"Not to mention rich!" Said another, and Kurt couldn't help but to narrow his eyes at her as he continued to listen in, the nasally quality of her voice making him want to snort with laughter. "Just look at those clothes! Imagine the dresses his money could buy."

"Oh what I'd give to have his money." Said one girl, obviously not one of the princesses from a higher Kingdom. Her dress was not as fine as the other girls, but she did have an air of royalty around her. Kurt deduced she was simply from a noble family. "I do hope I get a chance to talk with him…"

"Why, you think you're the one who will get his hand? It will obviously be me, our father's are good friends you know." One particularly snotty looking girl said, her nose held high in the air as if everyone were beneath her.

"Yes but I am the most beautiful." Said a blonde haired princess with a strong accent. She was a little bit right; her long flowing blonde hair and angelic features were a thing of beauty. The others girls simply huffed in response, stopping their petty argument now that the prince was making his way around the ballroom, shaking hands and greeting guests.

"Oh, he's up, that means it's almost time for the first dance!" all the girls squealed, heading off in the prince's direction with the rest of the girls in the room. Kurt just shook his head incredulously, shocked at the stupidity of the princess's conversation and antics.

He looked at the prince from across the room, taking in his appearance tonight. The girls were right; he was very rich. The clothes he was wearing were superb, tailored to perfection and made of a material Kurt knew he would never lay a finger on; people like him didn't have that privilege. His hair was delicately pushed back off his face, and his smile shone in the light of the room as he conversed with the flock of women surrounding him.

But how was it that his outward appearance was all the women were noticing? The more he looked at the prince the more he felt he saw. It was the same thing every fortnight at these balls; the same look carefully tucked away but still present in his eyes. It was a look so sad it made Kurt's heart ache for him and wonder why it should be there. Someone like Blaine didn't deserve to have such pain in his eyes.

Yes, beneath those smiles and greetings Kurt could see no genuine emotion there. Kurt had lived in this castle for almost his whole life, and though the prince knew nothing of him, Kurt knew a lot about the prince. He saw happiness on his face only on rare, and odd, occasions. Like when he was playing music in the hall where Kurt and the other servants were working quietly, or when he was talking with one of the workers in the castle's courtyards. The time when Blaine looked happiest however were when he was working with the castle's baker - Kurt's own father.

This always surprised Kurt, as the Queen and King _never _talked to someone below their prestigious rank. Yet Blaine was in the courtyard everyday, talking and laughing with his people. He visited Kurt's own father sometimes, and would bake bread that he would be eating with his dinner that very night. A prince cooking his own food! Kurt had never seen such a thing, so he always watched from a distance when he could. He had never actually spoken to the prince; for all that he knew the baker didn't have a son at all. Yet Kurt watched him speak to his father and come by to make bread for _fun. _This was when Kurt decided that prince Blaine was a good man, and Kurt knew he would make a fine King.

Yet he still looked so unhappy, even now as he took the first dance with a beautiful, dark-haired girl. He had none of the emotion that he had when he was talking to his people or wrist deep in sticky dough as he had while this beautiful women smiled at him as if he were already her world, and Kurt wished he knew why.

Kurt snapped out of his thoughts as he felt a tap on his back. Turning around, he saw that it was his brother, Finn.

"You're staring again." Finn teased in a whisper, and Kurt blushed before turning around. Kurt hated that Finn knew of his infatuation with the prince, a thought that took him months to admit to even himself. If anyone knew Kurt had feelings for the prince, for another man… well, the outcome would not be particularly pleasant, and he'd be surely put to death under their King's rule. Kurt was glad that Finn was accepting enough of the fact that Kurt felt this way and kept it a secret amongst the two of them and Kurt's father.

"I can't help it. He looks so…" Kurt trailed of, trying to find the word for it. "Miserable."

"Miserable?" Finn said questioningly, glancing in the direction of the prince who was now laughing with a Lord of some kind. "He looks like he is having a fine evening if you ask me." Kurt shrugged his shoulders. Finn didn't see the prince like he did, didn't hear the hollowness of his laughter across the room or see the dull, bored expression in those sparkling hazel eyes.

"Okay, let's go back to work." Finn said when he caught Kurt getting lost in thoughts about the prince again. Kurt just blushed a little darker, unwillingly tearing his eyes away from the prince as he walked off with Finn.

By the time Kurt had a moment to search for him in the crowd later that night he found that he was already dancing with a beautiful princess. It was the blonde girl from earlier, the prettiest of them all. Kurt felt his heart pang in protest. He didn't know why he did this to himself; he knew it could never be.

What, have the prince fall in love with him? He'd be lucky if the prince ever spoke to him! Beside's, he was just the baker's son, just a boy… a boy who liked other boys. Surely the prince would be disgusted if he knew that there was a boy harboring feelings for him living in his castle. Kurt supposed he'd just have to get over it, it could never be. The prince needed to marry a princess if he ever wanted to be King, and considering he was the King's only son, he didn't have much of a choice regardless.

"If only…" Kurt mumbled to himself, watching the prince twirl around the dance floor once more before heading back to work with Finn in the kitchens.

It was going to be a long night.

**_Leave a review! _**


	2. Chapter 2

**_Here we are at chapter two. You will learn a lot about the land where Blaine is from. So you don't get too confused, here is a short run down right here, right now._**

**_Waynnor is the whole land. Waynnor has hundreds of kingdoms, but there are really four main ones that are like huge. In the north the main one is Shaun, the nomad dragon riders. The West contains Argonia, the mountain dwellers. The middle of the map holds Tendaria, where Blaine lives and will rule. In the south there is the Kaarth, the people of the southern islands who are very skilled at war. _**

**_Hope that helps a little bit. If at all. Also there is Klaine interaction in this chapter! :)_**

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"It will all be yours to conquer, Blaine. Everything from the salty eastern sea," the King drew a long line with his finger across the yellowed pages of the map, "to the inhabitable mountains of the west. From the northern skies of the Shaun to the southern islands of Kaarth, every rock in every forest and every lowly peasant sitting in his hut will bow to you. All of Waynnor will respect you; King Blaine of Tendaria."

Blaine let out a sigh, trying to ignore the excited gleam in his father's eyes as he talked about his eventual reign. He got this speech at least once a week without fail. His father would bring him to his study and bring out an old, weathered map of all of Waynnor. He'd point out their own kingdom, and he'd quiz Blaine on the different colonies and kingdoms surrounding it, whether it be the Argonians who populated the lands surrounding the mountains of the west or the Kaarth of the southern isles. Every week it was the same trivia- and the same speech on how somehow, as a Tendarian, he was the most important King of them all.

"Now Blaine, I know you haven't found someone of your… caliber, yet at these balls, but I assure you-"

"Father, it's not that they aren't up to my _caliber_. The women at the balls are perfectly lovely." It wasn't that much of a lie. As horrid as it was to put up with the balls he had to admit he had made a few fond memories there, mostly with the woman who didn't want to be there just as much as him. They'd share a few hidden laughs about the other women there and whispered remarks in the other's ear as they danced, but Blaine would feel himself only wanting to be their friends. Not that he ever could be, they were always gone by the next day, and he never spoke with them again.

"Then why haven't you decided to marry one of them, Blaine? You need to wed soon." His father said this in a hushed tone, gaining Blaine's interest slightly. He'd often told Blaine he needed to wed but it was always with a tone of annoyed urgency, not with a hushed tone and a secretive gleam in his eyes.

"What do you mean? Why soon?"

"Every girl we invite to these balls, every woman whose hand you've kissed and waist you've grasped is from a kingdom that could be very useful to us in terms of alliances." His father gestured back to the map, drawing a circle around their kingdom. "We have remained a mighty and respected people over the centuries, Blaine. In the land of Waynnor the Tendarian people have ruled the middle kingdom for as long as can be recorded."

"Exactly, father, we are respected." Blaine said in an annoyed voice, staring down at the map with a look of contempt. "I don't understand why I have to marry so soon. If I'm to be King of Tendaria, what do I need of my wife other than companionship and eligibility for my throne? What alliances do I need?"

"You are young, Blaine," his father said with a strained smile. "So very young, and naive despite your wisdom, though there is no way of you to have known of this. In fact I have been keeping it a secret."

"Keeping what a secret?" Blaine said, sitting up a bit straighter and gazing at his father with quizzical eyes.

"There has been talk, Blaine."

"Talk about what?" He spoke hesitantly, the atmosphere of the room holding a whole new feeling. His father pointed up on the map, towards the north. His finger traced the swirl of the clouds idly; thumb brushing just across the smudged ink drawing of a dragon mid-roar.

"You've heard, of course, of the northern people of the sky." Blaine nodded, memories of his childhood lessons coming to mind. Picture books of nomads in tents and dragons breathing fire. He spoke automatically "The people of Shaun."

"Yes, the people of Shaun. Nomads, really, what with their dragons for flight and living in tents, never making a home." The King shook his head at the very idea of not going home to a large castle and a warm bed.

"What about the north?" Blaine asked, "What talk has their been about them?"

"There are talks about their agitation with the southern kingdoms. Agitation based upon feelings of uncertainty, as if they are not respected enough. There is talk among them that we, the Tendarians, are the ones who pushed them so far north."

"Didn't we?" Blaine blurted out, wishing he could reign the words back in. His father only gave him a solemn look.

"We didn't have a choice. When the middle kingdom arose there was no place for dragons, can you imagine? A dragon in Tendaria was a preposterous proposal. Yet there was nowhere else for them. The mountains of Argonia were much too dangerous for them and the sea was too barren and the south would have them all slaughtered before they rested there. No, no, they had to move north. To a place where the dragons and their riders could fly free and safely away from the rest of us, and as such the kingdom of Shaun was created in the north, if you could even call it a kingdom."

The King stroked the back of his neck slowly, eyes looking pinched and forehead wrinkled. "But news is they're coming back south."

Blaine let the thoughts churn in his mind uncomfortably, a million questions formulating but none quite so clear to ask. "Back to Tendaria, to start a rebellion?" The King nodded his head slowly.

"Now, as you know, your mother was a noble lady of the Argonian mountain dwellers. As such we obviously have an alliance with them, but the help of the Argonians alone would not be enough to let us win this war. We need an alliance with a kingdom who is more than willing to fight. They could be a deciding factor in how we win this war."

"War?" Blaine asked, voice a bit higher pitched. "But there is no war. Even if the Shaun decided to attack it won't be for a long time, will it, with all that way to travel. We can build up our forces until they arrive! Tendaria is at peace."

"Aye, so it seems." His father replied. "At this very moment farmers plough their fields and mothers watch their children play. The black smith forges steel and the baker makes his bread, but the land of Tendaria will be under siege sooner than you think. You seem to forget that they have something we don't."

Blaine swallowed thickly at this comment, letting the words wash over him as the obvious started him in the face. "D-Dragons. Of course they'd fly their dragons." He couldn't allow his mind to believe it. Tendaria, his home, under siege? At the hands of the dragon riders of Shaun? He may not want to be King, but he didn't want this for his kingdom.

"Why do the Shaun want to do this to us anyways?" He asked in a tone of contempt. "They were sent north years ago, shouldn't they be over it by now?

His father let out a barking laugh, making Blaine wholly uncomfortable. "Yes, it was years ago, before my time and my father's before me, that the dragon riders were exiled to the northern skies. And all that time this hatred has been brewing, and it seems that now, at the time of a Tendarian coronation, the Shaun find it best to strike. Their numbers have grown, their dragons are strong, and they are far better prepared than we are." Blaine paled even further at that comment, mouth going dry and palms growing sweaty. They wanted to destroy _him_, the new, naïve king of Tendaria. They wanted to siege his kingdom under his rule, and make him a fool.

"What do we have to do?" Blaine asked in a shaky voice. His father tapped his finger once, and Blaine looked down at the map, his finger pointed at Kaarth.

"We have brought women from around all of Waynnor to see you. Mostly from all the small kingdoms and noble families closest to Tendaria. However, you know the big players in this game. The middle kingdom of Tendaria, the dragon riders of Shaun, the mountain dwellers or Argonia and the Kaarth of the southern isles. We have alliances with Argonia already, and the Shaun people are planning attack. If we want to stop this from happening, we must have you married to one we can form an alliance with." The King's expression changed now, looking almost apologetic in a way that made Blaine's stomach churn.

"I know we've been letting you chose up until this point, throwing balls in hopes you'd find someone from closer to Tendaria but the time of war is getting closer. Tendarian spies in the north send word that the Shaun will be on the move sooner than we think, and we are much too underprepared. The time has passed for love and the time for strategy has arisen. I have strategized that we must form an alliance with the Kaarth people, and allow you to marry one of their princesses."

Blaine looked at his father with a stricken expression. "But the Kaarth are..."

"I know you've heard the stories. The Kaarth are an… interesting people, but very savage in the terms of their war tactics, and to win a war against dragons savagery might be just what we need." His father stood up and walked towards the window, standing in the yellow light. Blaine watched his silhouette, feeling smaller and more frightened than he had in a long time.

"There is a girl from house Baie in Kaarth. She has lived all her life in Jenda, the small Kingdom not far away from here but still towards the south. Despite her home being in Jenda she is a Kaarth princess. She was taken years ago to Jenda in a time of war in Kaarth to protect her, and has lived there ever since upon her own request. I have spoken with the King of Kaarth, her father, and he said he would be honored at the prospect of joining our houses."

Blaine clenched his jaw tightly. He'd met many women over the years, over the months actually, but he had never met a Kaarth girl. The stories of their nation were always ones of war and battle. A noble people indeed, but war bent. They would be excellent allies in an oncoming war. He could only wonder if their women were just as violent as the men.

"You must do this Blaine, as the future King. Marry the Kaarth girl from Jenda, form the alliance and the war will follow suit. You won't even have to fight, the Shaun will be stopped before they so much as breach the forests surrounding our kingdom if Tendarian and Kaarth men are fighting side by side. And who knows, maybe at the news of the army waiting for them the Shaun will back off for good."

Blaine stared down at his hands, head swollen with new information and heart heavy in his chest. "This could stop a war, Blaine, if only you co-operate."

Blaine stood up from his chair slowly, wiping his palms on his trousers and trying to ignore the way his head was spinning.

"And what happens if I don't?" Blaine said slowly, and his father's eyes darkened.

"Then all of Tendaria will fall, Blaine, and it will be at your hands."

* * *

"Burt?" Blaine called out hesitantly, poking his head through the door of the baker's house. Yes, he was the prince and could technically walk into any house he pleased without so much as consent from its owner, but he still liked to be polite.

After yesterday's horrific ball and today's conversation with his father Blaine was in need of a distraction. He wanted nothing more than to spend the day in the kitchens, forgetting it all.

All those girls and lords and people he had to meet last night had been enough already, but now that he was burdened with the astounding news that Tendaria was soon going to be under siege if he didn't marry a girl he'd never met in his life? There hadn't been a war in years, and he certainly didn't want to be the cause of a new one just because he didn't get married. Yet he still shuddered at the thought of marriage to someone he didn't love. Blaine found himself drowning in his lack of options, his mind reeling with no conclusion.

He just needed to stop being the prince for a while, and to spend the rest of the day wrist deep in sticky dough and losing himself in Burt's simple conversation.

Blaine was about to call for Burt again but heard a sudden crash of pots and pans; it sounded like someone had fallen. He then heard a yelp of pain, and saw a hand grasp the counter top before it too slipped, and the sound of more pans falling hit Blaine's ears.

Blaine dashed inside the kitchen immediately, heading towards the noise. He found the source of the crash in a pile of brass dishes; it appeared that he, whoever it was, had slipped on some water on the hard stone floor. He was rubbing his arm, which now had a pretty nasty looking cut on it from where he had made contact with the jagged stonewall he was currently leaning against.

"Are you all right?" Blaine asked the boy, and he was met with a pair of terrified eyes. Terrified; yet the most beautiful eyes Blaine had ever seen.

He was stunned into silence. Was it possible for someone's eyes to be that blue? They were like the pictures of oceans Blaine had only seen in storybooks that his mother read to him as a child. They were wide and captivating; it was like they were looking into his very soul. He couldn't look away even if he-

"I-I'm fine, prince. I apologize." The boy stuttered out in apology, snapping Blaine out of his stunned silence. He spoke in a voice much higher than Blaine had been expecting for a boy, yet it wasn't overly feminine either. It was nice; thankfully not as distracting as his eyes.

"Sorry? Why should you be apologizing? You fell!" Blaine exclaimed with a laugh, trying to break the tension, but the boy still looked plain shocked and terrified. "Here, let me help you up." Blaine said gently, holding out a hand to the boy with the unsettlingly beautiful eyes.

"It's quite all right, prince." The boy said, hoisting himself up on his own. He winced when he put weight on his arm, and Blaine shot him a concerned look.

"You're injured; let me take you up to the castle. We can get your arm fixed." The boy's eyes widened even more as Blaine said this, and it confused Blaine. Why was he still so alarmed, so frightened?

"Oh no prince, I'm sure I'll be fine..." he trailed off, glancing down at his arm. The cut wasn't too deep, but Blaine could see that it had tiny pieces of rock and dirt in it. Blaine knew it was going to be infected if he didn't clean it soon.

"Call me Blaine, please." Blaine said in an easy voice, just a hint of pleading. He hated the title of prince; and he wanted to be on the same terms as this boy. He didn't want to seem like he was better or worse than him, all he wanted was to help. "Here, sit down so I can clean your arm properly, or it will get infected."

The boy started to protest, but Blaine held up a hand. "You're a… servant boy, am I correct?" The boy blushed and nodded.

"Then you'll definitely need full use of your arm. What good is it if it gets infected? Come on, let me help you." Blaine didn't know why he was so adamant on the topic. He wanted to help the boy with the beautiful eyes. He wanted to get to know him. He had never had a real friend.

Kurt nodded his head and stood up straighter, mumbling about getting a bowl of water to clean the cut and hurrying off quickly. Blaine on the other hand was trying his best to ignore the fact that whenever he looked up at him he was struck by the boy's beauty, but that's what he was. He was beautiful. Much more beautiful than any of the woman Blaine had danced with yesterday, or ever for that matter. Those girls were already faceless in his mind; a blur of dresses and sickly perfumes. But this boy, now setting down a bowl of water and sitting on a countertop in the stonewalled kitchens, looked positively stunning, and Blaine knew he'd never forget those eyes.

The information that this boy was _a boy _was also gnawing at the back of his mind, but he was trying to ignore it. He just wanted to get to know him better; that was it. He just wanted to be this boy's friend. He'd just have to try harder to not stare, for both their sakes.

"What is your name?" Blaine asked as the boy was trying to brush flour off his pants.

"My name is Kurt." He said in that high, smooth voice of his. He might as well have been singing it to Blaine.

"And how do you know Burt?" he asked, placing a dry cloth in a bowl of water. He started to gently clean the dirt from around Kurt's wound, hating the way he winced as the cold water stung the sensitive skin.

"I'm Burt's son." Kurt said, and Blaine's eyes widened in surprise. So this was the boy Burt always talked about in the days they spent in the kitchen. The one who sang and had his mother's eyes and had been living in the castle with him for the better part of his child hood.

"I've heard great things about you Kurt, from your father." Blaine said with a smile, and Kurt laughed. That is until Blaine picked a particularly sharp shard of rock from Kurt's arm, causing the smaller boy to gasp audibly in pain.

"I'm sorry." Blaine murmured, washing the cloth off in the bowl before going back to his cleaning.

"Why are you here?" Kurt asked suddenly, and Blaine stopped his ministrations to look up into Kurt's questioning eyes.

"I came here to see your father, to maybe bake with him today." Blaine said truthfully. "Where is he?"

"He is feeling sick today." Kurt said sadly, casting his eyes downwards for a second. "I'm doing all the baking today while he rests." Blaine was saddened to hear his friend was ill, yet happy that this left him alone with Kurt. _Because you want to be his friend,_ he reminded himself.

"May I help you with the baking?" Blaine asked, and Kurt felt his eyebrows knit together curiously.

"Why?" Kurt asked, voicing his thoughts out loud, and it was Blaine's turn to be confused.

"Why what?" he asked, and Kurt shook his head in confusion.

"Sorry, prince-"

"Blaine." He said, and Kurt nodded slowly.

"Right, Blaine. Sorry, but what I meant was… you are my father's friend, and like spending time with him. Why do you wish to spend all day in a stuffy kitchen with _me_, a servant boy? Forgive me if I'm wrong, but… do you not have anything better to do?" Kurt asked this question in a voice so timid it made Blaine burst out into laughter.

"Believe it or not Kurt, I do not." He said with a wide smile, his hazel eyes shining with laughter. They made Kurt laugh too; his heart fluttering feebly in his chest. He had never thought something like this could happen to him, and he didn't want the moment to end.

"Well, your arm is sufficiently cleaned." Blaine wiped the boy's arm one last time with the cloth, gazing down at the freshly cleaned wound.

"Now to wrap it, wait a moment…" Blaine trailed off, looking around momentarily before grabbing the end of his magnificent cloak and ripping it off quickly. Kurt gasped audibly, his eyes going wide. This confused Blaine greatly.

"What's wrong?" he asked, and Kurt shook his head.

"You… you ripped it! Blaine, that looks so expensive! Why would you do that?" Kurt asked in a shocked voice, and Blaine laughed once more.

"Kurt, I have many cloaks at the castle. I think I can spare this one for you." He said nonchalantly, and despite the blush on Kurt's cheeks his eyes still held fear and shock. Kurt touched the material of the cloak hesitantly, eyes wondrous at the softness of the fabric.

"This is such a fine material, I never thought I'd get a chance to _touch_ something this rare, and now I am to wrap a bloody wound with it?" he asked, and Blaine couldn't help the bemused expression on his face. Kurt was… adorable, to put it frankly. Another thought that made him feel ill but it was impossible to not think this way. He had never spoken with someone so passionate yet so youthful at the same time. _Besides_, he thought, to make himself feel better, _I can call my friends adorable if that is what they are._

"Would you like to keep the ripped cloak, then? So you can have the material with you?" Kurt's jaw dropped in awe, his eyes going from Blaine to the exquisite cloak. He nodded his head slowly, his eyes shining with excitement.

"I mean, I shouldn't, but I want to… it is already ripped, maybe just for a moment I could…" Blaine only laughed, handing over the cloak before finishing tying the bandage on Kurt's arm. Kurt ran the cloak through his fingers, looking very much like a kid on Christmas day. It made Blaine smile.

"There. Now that that is all sorted out… shall we get to work?"

And so the two boys did. All day they baked the bread, talking about anything and everything in between flour fights and breaks outside in the cool air. They made a good team, and by the end of the day Blaine had mostly forgotten about the ball and the conversation in his father's study that day. Kurt had proved to be a greater distraction than even Burt. Blaine blamed those beautiful crystal blue eyes.

Yet, Blaine wondered, did he seriously want more than friendship with this… _boy?_ Blaine couldn't help but notice things about Kurt he hadn't even noticed in women before. The way his hair shone in the sunshine when they stepped outside for some cool air, as the kitchen was rather hot. It looked soft, and he wanted to run his fingers through it. He also noticed how much he loved the sound of Kurt's laughter. It was musical, and sent pleasant shivers down his spine when he heard it.

He was also beginning to love the way Kurt teased him. Once the boy was finally comfortable around the prince he had begun to be his true self. He treated Blaine like an equal – at least most of the time. Sometimes in his witty comments and teasing remarks Kurt took on the roll of being superior to Blaine in his knowledge of baking, and it made Blaine laugh like nothing else. No one had ever tried to be better than him, and it gave Blaine a feeling he couldn't describe. It was like being in competition, except he didn't want to win. He just wanted to listen to Kurt all day, jaunting back and forth until there were no more words left to be said. This seemed illogical even to Blaine, as Kurt was very talkative.

Then there was the aspect of Kurt's beauty. The softness of his features; the brilliance of his captivatingly blue eyes. He was very beautiful, yet handsome at the same time. He wasn't overly masculine, yet he definitely wasn't feminine. He was just… Kurt. He was Kurt; and Kurt was beautiful.

But why was it now, for a _boy_, that these feelings of infatuation had finally decided to show up? Why had he never felt this way about a woman before? All those pretty girls who threw themselves at Blaine had never made him feel this way. He had never thought like this about them. Sure he had tried to, but with Kurt it was different… he didn't have to try. In fact he didn't _want_ to be feeling anything, but it was happening regardless. It was like Kurt was breaking him out of his shell, giving him the life he was starved of.

He supposed he should just get over it. He was probably only thinking these things because Kurt was the first person to treat Blaine like a person ever before. His mind was just jumping to early conclusions, and with time he was sure they would go away and he and Kurt could be friends. Just friends. Besides, he was to be wed to a Kaarth girl from Jenda very soon, for the sake of Tendaria and possibly all of Waynnor. He was to be King.

It was simply an information overload. A lot had happened, and his mind was playing tricks on his. He would meet this Kaarth girl and love her. Even if he didn't have a choice.

**_We have drama now! Blaine has a future wifey on his hands, and a little crush on Kurt (even if he wants to deny it)._**

**_Also don't be so naive to think that this fic's plot line is just going to be Blaine trying to tell his father he doesn't want to marry our Kaarth princess because he loves a boy. Come on now, I got a little more in store for ya ;)_**

**_Reviews make me update faster!_**


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